


it's good to warm my bones beside the fire

by officiallylexie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Shotgunning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1604837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officiallylexie/pseuds/officiallylexie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zayn and louis smoke together in a hotel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's good to warm my bones beside the fire

it’s a hotel night. they’re in the _la torretta_ in montgomery, texas. it’s a nice place, louis notices. the service is kind of shitty; room service isn’t answering their phone, but there’s a balcony that looks out over lake conroe. the view from the nineteenth floor is pretty nice. 

he's currently sat on the couch in the room that's closest to the door. his feet are propped up on zayn's lap and he's got his head tilted back as the smell of the smoke from zayn's fag fills the room and his nostrils. 

"don't you have something better? like, other than those?" he asks, looking at zayn and casually kneading the balls of his feet into zayn's thighs. 

"in my jacket," zayn answers around the cigarette between his lips. "we could share." his nostrils flare a bit as he inhales and then exhales, the smoke clouding out in front of him. 

louis reaches behind him and grabs zayn's jacket from the arm of the couch, digging around in the pockets. he finds a condom in the first one and scrunches his face up a bit. his phone's in there, too, but nothing he's looking for. he checks the other one, running his fingers along the inside of the black leather until they brush a little plastic baggy. 

from beside him, zayn puts his fag out on the _coca cola_ bottle’s top and leans back. louis feels his eyes on him. “you’ve not got a lot,” he says, “we’ll have to make good use of it.”

he hears zayn chuckle and he smiles a little, handing the baggy over. “you’re rolling. i’m shit at it.” and it’s true. each time that he’s tried, all of the bud ends up falling out. zayn’s tried to teach him, but it’s easier to just sit back and let someone else do it. 

“figured that much.”

zayn starts rolling the spliff, eyebrows furrowed in careful concentration. “you’re good at that,” louis says. he’s said it before, but.

“i do it often.”

louis knows this. he’s seen it more times than he can count. sometimes, when everyone else is sleeping, they’ll sneak to the back of the tour bus and share a joint in the wee hours of the morning. it’s nice. louis likes smoking with zayn. zayn’s very calm and easy. louis likes zayn.

they’re the ones who room together the most, harry with liam, and niall by himself. sometimes they’ll switch off and louis will room with liam or harry(and occasionally niall), but mostly it’s zayn he’s with. not just because of the weed, but because of the relaxation that he really needs these days.

“hand me my light,” zayn says and louis does, grabbing it from the circular, brown table in front of the couch. “thanks.”

he hears the flick of the lighter and looks over to see zayn holding the joint to his lips, inhaling prettily. he closes his eyes when he exhales and leans his head back, holding the spliff out for louis to take and louis does, taking it between his small fingers and holding it to his lips. he breathes in deeply and it burns a little, but he doesn’t cough. he hasn’t coughed from it in a while.

when he exhales, he lets out a sigh and looks at zayn, already feeling more relaxed than he had earlier. he takes another hit and closes his eyes, letting the high start to take its toll on him. 

blindly, he hands it back to zayn, drops his hand to his own thigh once the joint is removed from his fingers. the room is silent except for the bumping around in the room next to them and above them. it’s peaceful, louis thinks. the screaming outside has died down now that it’s half past two in the morning. for a moment, he almost forgets about everything, the cameras, the fame, the gossip, all of it. he smiles.

“i think i need a break,” louis says, opening his eyes for a moment. he doesn’t talk much about his thoughts except with zayn and only when they’re smoking. zayn’s a good listener. “we all do.”

zayn shrugs, sits up and hands the joint back to louis. louis takes a hit. “it gets to be a bit much sometimes,” he agrees, “but it’s worth it, y’know? like harry says, the pros outweigh the cons by a longshot.”

that’s an opinion, louis thinks, but he knows zayn is right regardless. the pros do outweigh the cons, but that doesn’t stop louis from maybe wishing that they didn’t. it would give him a reason to feel the way that he does. and it’s not like — it’s not like he’s _ungrateful_. he just wants a break from it all for a while. 

of course, he wouldn’t press that on any of the others. he wouldn’t come to them about it or maybe suggest it. of course he wouldn’t. he’s not selfish. 

he takes a long, slow hit from the joint and holds it in before exhaling and climbing over onto zayn’s lap, straddling him. zayn’s looking up at him through slightly hooded, caramel eyes and louis smiles as he thumbs over zayn’s bottom lip, pulling it down enough to get him to part his lips before taking another hit and inhaling deeply. then he leans down, blowing the smoke into zayn’s mouth slowly with a hum.

they do this sometimes and sometimes they end up kissing a bit, which doesn’t mean anything, really. he doesn’t have a crush on zayn and zayn doesn’t have a crush on him. they don’t really talk about it either. it’s just a thing. _their_ thing. 

he pulls back with a lazy smile and brings the joint to zayn’s lips. zayn closes them around it and takes a short hit, eyes closing a bit as he does so. louis pulls the joint away and leans down again, pressing his lips to zayn’s and sucking the smoke right out of his mouth. 

“mm,” zayn hums against his lips and louis sucks on his lower lip a bit before kissing him properly. it’s a bit lazy and slow, the high having set into his limbs and making his movements more languid than usual. he likes it.

he especially likes the way zayn’s lips feel on his own, a bit chapped, but still soft. he tastes like _coca cola_ , cigarettes, and pineapple express. “you taste good,” he murmurs and licks zayn’s lip before pulling back a little, spliff resting between his middle and index finger. he should probably put it out or something, but he takes another hit off of it just because and blows it into zayn’s mouth again.

this time, it’s zayn who surges up and kisses louis, deep and slow. “thanks,” he murmurs, his hands finding louis’ waist. louis’ arches his back. “you too.”

they kiss for a little while longer, louis’ free hand finding zayn’s hair and tugging just slightly, enough to make zayn complain about it into his mouth. 

louis sits up and rolls up the sleeve of his jumper a bit before putting the joint out on the back of his hand. it burns for a second, but he’s used to it, really. zayn’s always told him he shouldn’t do it, that it’ll scar, but louis doesn’t really mind. what’s the difference between tattoos and scars, really?

he tosses the rest of the joint onto the coffee table and leans down again, kissing zayn again slowly. he slides their tongues together lazily, one hand on the back of zayn’s head and the other resting on his chest. they’re making quiet noises into each other’s mouths and louis pulls away after a while, lays his head on zayn’s chest instead. 

they don’t say anything, louis tracing zayn’s tattoos through his thin, cotton t-shirt with his finger absentmindedly. zayn makes a good pillow. he makes a good everything, really, but especially a good pillow. he’s a little bony, but that doesn’t matter. he’s soft and warm and comforting.

slender fingers are rubbing circles into his back and he sighs into it, closes his eyes. “when tour’s over, let’s take a roadtrip,” he whispers and it may be the high talking, but. “just me and you. it’ll be fun.”

zayn hums and shifts underneath him, tilts his head to the side a bit so louis can nuzzle his face into it. “okay,” he agrees and they don’t say anything else. louis starts kissing up zayn’s neck mindlessly because they do this sometimes and they don’t talk about it at all. it’s just a thing. 

his hands slide to zayn’s collarbones, just resting there as he leaves a trail of light kisses up and down his neck, biting lightly with sharp teeth because he can and he likes the little intake of breath it gets from zayn.

“you need to shave,” he comments quietly and zayn grins.

“yeah?” he mumbles, looking down at louis and running a hand over his own facial hair. “can’t decide if i look better shaven or not.”

louis considers this. zayn does look very nice when he’s freshly shaven and clean, but he also looks very nice when he’s not shaved in a while and his sharp features are more defined by the dark hair. it’s a tough decision, really. louis thinks zayn looks good always. there’s never a time when he looks bad. 

“i think you can pull off anything, to be honest,” he says and shrugs, slumping down against zayn’s chest again. “except face tattoos. nobody can pull those off, so don’t ever get one. you’re too pretty.”

maybe he’s a bit higher than he realises, but it’s the truth anyway.

zayn snorts. “i think you need sleep.”

louis thinks so too.

“carry me to the bed?” he asks, because he’s lazy and zayn is warm and he really doesn’t want to _move_.

if zayn rolls his eyes, louis has no way of knowing as he’s being scooped up into zayn’s arms. he curls into his chest and nuzzles into his neck. zayn carries him easily to the adjacent room and lays him down on one of the beds. “you better sleep with me, too,” he says, grinning and sliding underneath the covers, patting the spot next to him. 

it’s a tight fit and they would probably be more comfortable if they took advantage of the two-bed room, but zayn is already curled in beside him and he’s warm, so louis doesn’t mention it, just curls into zayn’s body and closes his eyes.

“goodnight, zaynie-poo,” he coos in a light, teasing voice because he knows zayn hates being called that.

“shut up and go to sleep.”

louis does, but not before pinching zayn’s waist and earning a slap to the bum in response.

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from a pink floyd song. all mistakes are my own. this is completely fiction(though i'm, like, 99.9% sure it's happened before). i'm on twitter @zaynandlou


End file.
